


Only Two People On Earth

by lyall



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kisses, Post 2x09, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:30:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyall/pseuds/lyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bellamy and Clarke kissed. Each different to the last. Post 2x09.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Two People On Earth

Their first kiss is short and fleeting, and given in the haze of loss and fear. It is a short pressing of her lips to neck as she embraces his broken body, his arms barely able to curl around her shaking frame. It is rushed and reckless, but it is needed.

It cannot convey the depth of her guilt that she is the reason for all of this. But for now it is all she can give. They are running out of time, and they need to get him out of the mountain before they are found.

The touch of her lips on his skin sends warmth shooting into his wasted muscles, giving him enough strength to squeeze her slightly, telling her its okay. He’s alive. Just.

*

The second is a slow and painful press as she watches him slip in and out of consciousness. He has been confined to the medical station for days now, his shrunken body looking even smaller in the bed. Her mother watches anxiously from the doorway, knowing that she is helpless in injuries of the mind. Bellamy could well be lost to the depths of the subconconscious.

She brings his hand to her lips as a comfort, allowing the warmth of his hand remind her than he is still alive and that blood still flows in his veins. But it is of little comfort when she cannot tell him how sorry she is.

In his half conscious state he feels her lips on his hand and he wants to reach up and stroke her hair, wipe away her tears. But he can’t move. His body screams and his mind is a dark chaos he can barely navigate. When he finds himself getting lost, he makes himself feel the pressure of her lips on his hand, anchoring him to reality. 

*

Their next kiss comes as a surprise to both of them. It is heat of the moment rooted in pure joy and lightness of life. A soft pressing of lips together for a brief second that feels like decades. It is chase and reserved and almost instantly forgotten as others clamber in to the moment.

He is awake and conscious. There are still nightmares, and scars litter his body, angry reminders of what he had to endure. But his eyes are open and he is looking at her.

It is unreadable, but for now that is enough for her and for a short time it makes her forget her the guilt that eats her alive. A small smile graces his features as he sees Octavia, Month, Jasper, Raven. Their friends. Safe and alive. 

The happiness of the moment is infectious, and the whole feeling around camp is uplifting as the remaining 100 see the man who kept them alive is now awake. Clarke is unable to talk, she can only watch with tears in her eyes at a moment she feared might never happen. She embraces her mother thanking her for everything she did to save the boy she loves. She doesn’t say it out loud, but her mother knows. 

Lexa smiles also, knowing that despite the losses to her army, it might just have been worth it. Clarke had lost too much already. Lexa secretly thinks that it is love that makes Clarke strong.

*

The fourth kiss is angry and filled with everything unsaid. 

She had been waiting for it, waiting for the confrontation when Bellamy was strong enough. The elephant in the room. Why did she let him go? He blamed her and she knew he had ever right to do so. Every new scar on his body might as well have been carved by her own hand. 

She tells him she is sorry, sorry, sorry. But it’s not enough. He rants and yells at her, shoving her backwards. Because of her he is broken, he yells. He points at every mark on his body, telling her how he got them.

Left shoulder circular scar; electric shock. 3 inch cut on his ribs; where they took blood from him. And it goes on. He continues to list them until she is crying and asking him to stop. But he can’t and he shouldn’t. 

This is a different Bellamy. He is fuelled by anger and confusion. Why would she ask him to go? She knew the risks. Why didn’t she stop him, he screams at her, why didn’t she stop him?

And all at once he closes the space between them and his lips are on hers. It is a hungry kiss, fuelled by his pain and her betrayal. But there is something else there; his guilt. He should have argued harder and told her he was staying. He should have known she was hurting and he is sorry.

And all at once they are a tangle of unresolved emotions, colliding at a force greater than either of them knew existed.

She kisses him back eagerly, her hands in his hair, on his face. She holds onto him like it’s the last time.

When they finally pull apart, for air and no other reason, they stop and stare. Something has changed between them, the air is different and now there is no going back. His eyes are still alight with the fire of anger, and she still feels the guilt of her actions.

She brings a hand to her lips, which are still tingling from the kiss. They are silent. He leaves eventually.

*

It’s their fifth kiss, but also their first. 

She had been tip-toeing around him since their last encounter, the ghost of his lips on her still a fresh memory. She didn’t know if it was for forgiveness or just out of anger, and she had yet to find the courage to ask.

She had heard he was having trouble sleeping and it broke her heart. 

Her only saving grace was the woods just beyond the perimeter of the fences where the wild garlic grew. On the premise that she was collecting medicinal herbs, Clarke would slip out in the morning and not return unless she had to. Occasionally she was called back for a medical emergency, but for the most part it was blissful.

Raven soon realised what she was doing, and for a while, she had a silent companion and it was nice. But Raven came with guilt too. Eventually she stopped coming with Clarke.

One particularly warm morning, she had sat down on a mound and lost herself in her thoughts. The sound of footsteps approaching made her turn.

Stood metres away is Bellamy, bathed in the morning light, giving him and ethereal glow and a warmth that she had forgotten about. In this light the scars on his face and arms seem paled, and hidden. He stares intensely at her.

“Bell…” She begins, not knowing what words could do to repair the broken trust between them. It had shattered into so many tiny pieces she wasn’t even sure it could be fixed at this point.

He says nothing, but strides up to her, pulling her to her feet and kissing her. It wasn’t like the one before. That had been heated in anger and temper like a storm. But this one was soft and caring.

His arms wound around her waist holding her gently as she responds in kind. It was a slow burning kiss that she loses herself in completely. And despite the earth’s effort to mould them into something different, they fit together as if they had been made for each other. For the moments where their lips touched, they were the only two people on the earth.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this drabble of mine.


End file.
